Where is He?
by Blackeri
Summary: Short story about Gilgalad Ereinion's death and how it affects the people around him.


A/N: Many thanks to HaloFin17, without whom, this would not be possible and for her wonderful tales of Gil-Galad and Cirdan. This is for you Halo!

* * *

The Last Alliance of the Elves, SA.

My eyes scanned the horizon, dark clouds were forming above us and I pulled my cloak tighter around me, as if that would shield me from the stench of death that was all around us. Bodies were strewn everywhere, orcs mostly, but elves also and men. My heart cried out for my fallen brethren. Although the Dark Lord was defeated, it was bittersweet, and I wished that this had not been the cost of his defeat.

A cold wind swept past me as I walked between the dead, their cold bodies pale and their eyes glazed over with death. I shivered, there was still malice in the air, I could taste it…feel it in the ground beneath my feet. The ground was covered in ash and there was a stillness that clogged my senses with death and sulfur. I drew a cloth mask up to cover my nose and mouth. With the heat, the fumes became poisonous, and while elves did not get ill, I didn't want to take any chances. I stopped walking as I saw a soldier—beaten and bloody, scratches marring his elven face and there was weariness in his eyes that mirrored that of the rest of us—approach me.

"My lady, Círdan would have your company…"

I looked at the solider sharply; ready to speak my mind about just how absurd formalities were when one was standing on a battlefield. I drew a deep breath, asking myself what Ereinion would do. Resigned, I nodded to the solider, following him through the mounds of bodies to a small hill where Círdan and Elrond were standing. Gil-Galad would not have shown his anger towards the solider.

Pausing at the top of the hill, I looked to Círdan for a reason for his summons; instead, grief was veiled in the elf's eyes. I frowned, looking to Elrond for an explanation, but received none.

"Where is he? Where is Ereinion?" I asked, my lips forming the question my heart already knew the answer to. Silence. Desperate for an answer, I shook Círdan with all my might, tears already falling down my face. "Where is he Círdan?! Where?" I screamed. Shaking him some more, I tightened my grip on the elder elf's shoulders, willing him to say it, to break his elven composure and just confirm it.

"Dead. Slain by Sauron's fire."

I broke away from Círdan, disbelief numbing my body. "He-he can't be dead…" I whispered, shocked. Looking up to Círdan, other possibilities began swarming. "Perhaps he's not dead…perhaps he got away…it's possible…Sauron may have only destroyed his armor…" As much as the possibilities ran through my head, I knew there were no other situations. My star was gone—and I could only pray to Illuvatar that he would be re-embodied in Valinor. Círdan shook his head as I stared at him, tears pouring silently down my face.

"Nay, Delwen. He is gone…"

I ran at him then, pounding his armored chest with my fists, uncaring about how my hands would bruise later. I wanted to hate him then, wanting to scream and shout, wanted him to take it back, to say that Ereinion wasn't dead.

His face still carefully blank, Círdan swiftly grabbed my wrists and held them in one hand, then, tenderly, like I had seen him do to Gil-Galad so many times, enveloped me in a tender hug.

* * *

Círdan had never seen a more beautiful and morbid sight. Small torches were set into the sand as a small group of elves said a last goodbye to their leader. A formal ceremony had already been preformed and Círdan himself had found it too gaudy and drawn-up to be true to Ereinion's heart. That had been a tribute to a great king; this…this was something infinitely more intimate. This was a tribute to a great friend, a son, and a lover.

The sun was setting on the sea's horizon, casting shadows of purple, red and orange across the sky like a whimsical child. Waves gently lapped against the shore, gulls flew overhead, and a small breeze tugged at the folds of his robes. He smiled gently, looking over at the group of elves that had gathered.

Delwen was there, clothed in dark robes, her dark hair pulled back into a long braid, making her contrast to the others' even more apparent. He had not liked the idea of Ereinion taking her as a lover and had said so frequently. She had been one of the only things they had fought about. Yet, as he had watched the two, he couldn't help but say the two were good for each other. She had been troublesome and unruly, unwilling to listen to anyone. He had become burdened by his kingship, the weight of a large kingdom and a looming battle heavy on his shoulders. Círdan could not help but agree that while their time had been short, they had given each other a happiness and joy that Círdan had only found with the sea.

A 'Sea-love', he chuckled, the naming for his fondness for the sea had been given by Delwen, when Ereinion had left for Amon-Sûl and he had spent hours sitting on the shore watching the waves as Delwen paced behind him.

The sound of a soft mournful song broke him from his revere. Turning, he joined the group of elves who were gathered around a small basin of ashes. Elrond had painstakingly collected them after the battle, refusing to leave the ashes there in that dark place.

The haunting melody brought peace to his mind. Yes, this was a better way to honor Ereinion's memory, through song and spoken word and a gathering of close friends. After a quiet moment, Delwen turned to Elrond and himself. Extending her hand, she smiled softly. "It is your honor," She said quietly, putting Ereinion's ashes in their hands.

Thanking her quietly, Círdan and Elrond turned to the sea. He looked up to the sky, smiling. "Fly with the gulls, my son,"

Elrond nodded, "My friend, my king,"

"My love…" Delwen added, coming behind them, resting her hand on Círdan's shoulder. Nodding swiftly, they untied the cord that kept the bag closed and watched together as the ashes flew, encircling them as if in a last goodbye before flying upwards with the birds and out to sea.

After a moment, Delwen spoke again. "His death will not be in vain…" Círdan looked over at her and nodded. Even though Sauron's ring had not been destroyed, and there were dark times still ahead, one did not need elvish foresight to see that Delwen would not let Ereinion's death be in vain, for it shown in her eyes like the brightest of starlight.

Círdan nodded again and rested a hand on her shoulder. She would go, he knew, to fight the darkness that would threaten Middle-Earth, and if she was careful, he hoped she would survive. He'd sworn to Ereinion before he died that he would protect her…Círdan was just now realizing that was going to prove a possibly greater challenge then raising Gil-Galad had been.

* * *

The Year 62 of the Fourth Age….

"Oh, I am getting old…" Círdan mumbled as Delwen escorted him onto the last ship, setting him down on a nearby stack of crates. Finally, he was ready to leave. After more then three ages of this earth, the last of the elves had left, leaving the last ringbearer, himself and Delwen the last to leave. That was, of course, if he could stop tripping over boxes long enough to make it to Valinor.

"Yes, you are Círdan, and should have left a long time ago…" Delwen persisted, handing him the star charts that would guide them to Valinor. He shook his head, the girl had not changed since she'd first arrived at the Havens: extremely blunt and stubborn.

"I was not ready to leave yet…." He reasoned, it had not felt right, leaving with Gandalf, Galadriel and the first ringbearer. Now that the elves were gone from this world and the race of men dominating Middle-Earth, he had finally felt the urge to leave.

"That's what you said when Gandalf left, and then you said it again and again until Legolas Greenleaf and that dwarf left---" Delwen looked at him, exasperated.

"This time we're actually leaving, and I am not letting get off this boat! I am not going to give you another chance to change your mind…"

He was trying to come up with a cohesive reply when the steady clop of hoofbeats reached his ears. "The last ringbearer has arrived." He said quietly. Delwen stilled, looking up from her work to confirm that it was, indeed, Samwise Gamgee, getting down from his pony and striding confidently over the dock to the side of the ship.

"Trying to leave without me?" He asked, making light of the situation even in his old age.

"Of course, Master Gamgee, actually taking you along with us….what an idea…"

The hobbit laughed and climbed aboard, taking in the sight of the wooden ship. "Ah yes…" He breathed, but said no more.

"Do you think he's there? Do you think he will have remembered?" Delwen asked quietly, coming up beside him. Círdan smiled softly, looking out to sea.

"He's there, he's waiting…" He said softly.

* * *

Valinor's Harbor, Aman

Delwen nearly screamed with delight as her feet touched the dock on Aman, she bent, tying off the rope around a pole, securing Círdan's boat to the dock. After helping lower the gangplank, Samwise came off, ready to greet friends that had gathered around at the sight of the last ship from Middle-Earth.

"Finally…" She said quietly to Círdan as he stepped off. He smiled, his eyes gazing over at the crowd that had gathered. Tenderly, he bent down to her, kissing her forehead.

"Someone is waiting…" He muttered softly, nudging her gently in the direction of a tall figure, elbowing his way through the crowd like a young boy. Ereinion Gil-galad flew towards them, embracing Círdan first, hugging him tightly.

"I have missed you much, Círdan…" Gil-galad said, grasping Círdan's hand tightly. He could not believe it! His heart was bursting with joy. It had been terrible to find himself alone in Aman, without the company and friendship of Círdan and Delwen. He had watched from the shore every ship that had come into the harbor, watching as elves greeted friends and family.

Gently, he felt Círdan turn him in the direction of the female elf at his side and he felt his eyes widen.

"Delwen?" He asked softly, breaking away from Círdan to caress the side of her face, feeling the soft skin there. She had grown so much since he had seen her last, but it was her eyes that had changed the most. No longer filled with such hatred of the world, instead, understanding.

Kissing Ereinion's palm, she reached up and gently brought his head down as she kissed him, resting her forehead against his. "It's me Ereinion, it's me…"

Ereinion smiled, releasing her and then drawing both Círdan and her into a great hug.

"Welcome home…."

_Fin._

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End file.
